as time drifts the relevance fades,
a tune of melody on loop,
softly puncturing the heart,
each note a sharp knife.
they cover the silence, the sweet ache of existence,
senses awakened like the pulse of life.
in this strange haze, we seek to feel,
something pure that we lost in past,
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the dance of greys in arms of night,
sparks the chaos of longing and loss,
in search of these ripple
we lastly find the raft that brings us to light.
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